


Faen ta Deg

by lilithenaltum



Series: And They Were Roommates... [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Companionable Snark, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Light Bondage, Loki is a Loveable Asshole, Louisiana, Multiple Orgasms, Natural Disasters, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Reader is black, Rope Bondage, Self-Insert, Shameless Smut, somewhat AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-23 05:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14927903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: "She's tempted to tell him to go fuck himself, but he'd take the invitation literally and drop trou in the kitchen, so instead she bites her tongue and ignores his question."One tornado, two people, and a Louisiana heatwave; or, the perfect recipe for disaster and an opportunity to sort through those awful things called feelings. Mel wants more, against her better judgement, and maybe so does Loki.





	Faen ta Deg

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of my previous self insert fic, [Råvdyrkjeft](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14578728) and should be read first for a bit more clarity on the setting and the OFC. Comments are loved, welcome, and appreciated.

  

_**Faen ta deg:**   Norwegian; meaning "fuck you", or literally "may the devil take you"_

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Could it possibly get any hotter?" Loki asks, leaning against the refrigerator and sighing dramatically.

 

Mel declines an answer because she knows he won't like what she has to say. Instead, she takes a swig from her Arnold Palmer and scrolls through Facebook for something to do. Middle of the work week and she doesn't have any plans. So much for taking a vacation; what use was one when she couldn't leave the state without taking Loki and he couldn't leave without explicit SHIELD permission? Besides, she didn't have the money to leave, not after getting that porch put on and getting a new couch.

 

"Aren't you a frost giant?" she asks instead, earning a glare. "You can't cool your damn self down?"

 

He purses his lips just so, the way he does when he's irritated. Unfortunately for him, she doesn't really care if he's upset. She's so used to it. Besides, he fucks so good when he's mad. The thought makes her lips curl.

 

"That isn't how it works," he huffs out, grabbing a paper menu on the fridge to fan himself. "You know that."

 

"Hm. Figured something might have changed since the last time you told me."

 

"And you call _me_ an arse."

 

She chuckles and plucks her lemon from the glass, sucking the sour fruit with a flourish and watching how his eyes dart from her eyes to her mouth.

 

"An _ass_ , Loki. Arse is for stuck up posh folks. I'm too country for all of that."

 

"Yes, yes, I know. Salt of the earth and down home, blah blah blah. Remind me, please, if you'll be so inclined: when, exactly, is the air conditioning going to be fixed? It's really not good for my health to get overheated, you know."

 

Mel sighs. She does know and truthfully, she doesn't like the idea of hauling a heat stroked alien to the ER. Especially when he was as heavy as Loki was and ornery.

 

"Guy said tomorrow at the earliest. He's backed up. It's the beginning of the summer, dude. He's probably swamped in work orders."

 

"Perhaps. But he should make this home a priority."

 

She snorts at that and tosses the lemon rind on the table. "Oh, you're funny. Yeah, ain't how it works round here. To be honest, I'll be lucky if he even comes this week." She swoops her curls up and away from her neck and leans back in the kitchen chair, tapping on her phone and seeing a coupon for midnight bowling in Leesville. Sounds fun. And they probably have air conditioning in the bowling alley there.

 

"You ever been bowling?" she asks, but he ignores her to plop down on the floor and open the fridge, leaning inside it with a sigh.

 

"Loki. Get out of my damn Frigidaire."

 

"I will not."

 

"You're letting all the cold air out!"

 

He raises an onyx brow and crosses his arms, daring her to make him move. "So long as it's stifling and sweltering in this house, I'm not moving."

 

She growls, tossing a stray magazine at his head but he dodges effortlessly. She gets the feeling he's done that numerous times before. "If you don't get your long, lanky ass off my floor and out my goddamn fridge, I swear to god I'm gonna-"

 

"You've got to be overheated as well, darling," he says, his words slick and sly and she narrows her eyes. He's up to no good. "Perhaps we could strike up a deal."

 

"What kinda deal?"

 

He grins then, all teeth and she can't help but find him overwhelmingly attractive like this, sitting on the kitchen floor in cut off jeans and a tank top, hair piled on top his head and skin flushed red. If it wasn't so hot, she'd consider riding him into the damn floor.

 

"You sit here, on top of my lap," he begins and she almost laughs at how he seemed to have read her mind. "And I'll sit here beside the refrigerator and we can both be cool."

 

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her phone. "Not a good enough deal."

 

"Hmmm, but I'm significantly cooler than this machine."

 

"You just said you can't-"

 

"I said I cannot cool _myself_ down, sweetheart. Not you. I can chill you as much as you want, if you'd allow it."

 

Well that changes things a wee bit. The little fan she's got blasting isn't helping much and neither is the lemonade nor the water bottles. She'd go outside and swim again but she'd just gotten out the shower and really wasn't in the mood to wash her hair again. And it was supposed to rain soon. It'd be just her luck she'd get struck by lightning. She wondered if she could survive something like that, perhaps turn into a superhero herself. On that thought, she Googles the odds of living after being struck by lightning and considers the options.

 

"Mel."

 

"What."

 

"Your answer?"

 

"About?" She knows what he really wants. She won't pretend like she doesn't want it either. They're past that now, way past it. It's been simply a matter of light touches or meaningful glances, and on occasion a blunt proposition, to get into her pants. She doesn't mind. She hasn't had this much fun or felt this sexy in ages. It's been two months of getting her back blown out and fucked all kinds of way into her mattress (or his, depending) and she doesn't regret one second of it. There's something fun about walking into work knowing she's got hickies on her thighs and bite marks on her hips.

 

"Our previous discussion, of course," he says, and he taps his fingers impatiently on the door of the fridge. He still hasn't shut the damned thing so she figures he's probably at least serious about cooling down this way. Mel crosses her legs once more and grimaces at the skin sticks to itself, cursing herself for wearing shorts instead of light jeans. She's doing nothing but leaving sweat everywhere and it's grossing her out. And to think, she'd never minded the heat so much before. But she's gotten used to living in a house where the air is no warmer than 60 degrees any given season, so perhaps she'd adjusted.

 

Before she can retort, there's a clap of thunder and the house shakes, the lights going out as the wind begins to pick up. It's not much darker inside than it had been, but it's noticeably quieter, as the fridge's motor powers down for lack of electricity.

 

"Please don't tell me that this means what I think it means," Loki groans, and Mel does too because now he's going to bitch and moan and whine about the heat even worse. And there isn't any coolness in the fridge if he keeps it open now, so there'll be none for her and no chance to get off if she wants. It's going to be stifling and suffocating and humid and she really isn't looking forward to this, nope, not at all.

 

"Only other option you got is to go swimming again," she says, getting up from the table and taking her near empty glass to the sink. "Or, you can go sit in the car."

 

He brightens at that prospect, and makes a scramble off the floor, all long legs and broad shoulders, and he almost snatches the keys from the table but she's closer and therefore, a little bit faster.

 

"Ah ah ah! Ground rules before I let you in the Focus."

 

He could not possibly roll his eyes any harder. She thinks that if he tries, they'll get stuck or pop out and she's partial to those pretty blue eyes, especially when he's on top and he's got his hand around her throat and he's making her look him in the eye when she cums.

 

She clears her throat and tries clearing her mind and straightens her spine. She’s got to exhibit some sort of authority or he’ll try walking all over her-just because he’s made her squirt before, just because he’s made her cum so hard she’s blacked out.

 

“You get fifteen minutes of cool air. Use ‘em sparingly. When I come out to get you, you get out the car. I’m not running my battery down for your ass, so don’t try it.”

 

“You couldn’t possibly just buy another battery should the other expires?” he asks, as if it’s so obvious. She's tempted to tell him to go fuck himself, but he'd take the invitation literally and drop trou in the kitchen, so instead she bites her tongue and ignores his question.

 

She pushes the car keys into his hand and flip flops back toward her room, where hopefully it’s a little cooler. “Just do what I say, okay?”

 

He grumbles something under his breath in a language she can’t understand, but he’s out the door and down the steps before she can change her mind. Mel flops back into her bed and closes her eyes, lets out a slow breath, and tries hard not to slip her hands into the waistband of her shorts.

 

It’s a struggle, though.

 

Her mind keeps wandering, mostly toward the asshole currently in her car and the things he can do with his mouth, with his fingers, with that big thick dick of his. She’d been more than delighted to find that the endowment didn’t only extend to his Jotnar form, but the Aesir glamour he almost always wore. Things were a wee bit different but everything lined up right and he still kissed like he was trying to steal breath from her lungs, so she really didn’t care.

 

And he was still really hot when he was pale and blue eyed, as much as he was when he was blue and red eyed. It just so happened that the horns and the markings and the pure primal energy of his true form set her off in ways nothing else could. He didn’t seem to mind dropping the glamour around her more often now, especially when she was in a bad mood after work and really wanted her socks knocked off.

 

But as of late she’d been wondering if maybe she was getting a little too attached. It wasn’t really jealousy, at least she didn’t like to think it was; it was simply self preservation. You didn’t get attached to a guy like him, no matter how good the sex, or how sweet he could be. And he could be so sweet sometimes. One day, she’d come home from work damn near in tears after an awful, racist customer. And of course management hadn’t done a thing to help her, leaving her in the lurch to be insulted and cursed at and called all kinds of nasty slurs. Somehow, the way they almost always did, it was her fault and she was written up once again and threatened with probation or termination or a pay cut and she was so done, so through with it all.

 

The drive home had been a struggle to not cry. She didn’t like crying, not for any reason, and none of the jerks at that office were worth her tears anyway. But the moment she stepped into the house and caught his glance as he sat reading on the couch, her lip had begun to wobble. He’d looked so worried, so concerned. And he had scooped her up and ran her a bath, fed her warmed up leftover mac and cheese, and let her cry on his shoulder.

 

Later, of course, he would brush it off as simply his way of keeping her from chewing him out over the smallest of issues, but in the back of her mind she knew it was more than that.

 

The asshole actually had a heart. He _cared_. And she was terrified of that idea, because she knew she cared, too. _But good luck with that_ , she thought, rolling over in the bed, the sheets going from moderately cool to warm and she flips her pillow over and groans.

 

She didn’t need to think about that. She didn’t need to think period. Thinking took energy and energy made heat and she was hot enough.

 

The house is still for long, blissful minutes, even though the wind whips around outside. The weather app on her phone sends her a notification, something about a tornado warning for the parish, but she ignores it. They’re always talking tornado warnings or watches for this area but nothing more than a strong thunderstorm happens. All the bad shit usually goes up to Marthaville or Pleasant Hill.

 

And yet, something doesn’t feel right. It’s hot and thick in her room so she rolls over to open the window and is shocked to see how dark it is. It’s barely 2 pm and looks nearly 9. The wind has stilled and the air smells metallic, almost like blood. Something drops in the pit of her stomach and she catches the faint sound of a siren in the distance.

 

Oh god _no_.

 

Shooting up from the bed, she rushes out the house and down the stairs as the siren gets louder and closer.

 

“Loki!” she screams, looking toward the car but seeing no one inside. Instead, he stands on the hill in the front of the house, eyes on the sky and the strangest grin on his face. His hair is plastered to his face and neck, his shirt discarded in favor of going topless, and he looks absolutely insane standing outside in a storm to stare at a-

 

She swallows and follows his eyes and nearly pisses her shorts.

 

It’s the largest tornado she’s ever seen in person, barrelling down on the property and she realizes the house and her car and her, him, all she has-is directly in its path. Her mind scrambles for what to do and the only thing she can think of is to get in the car and try to beat the storm, haul ass towards Mama and Daddy’s and maybe, just maybe, get to safety. But that’s no sure bet and only doable if they leave now, and she’s almost too terrified to move.

 

“LOKI!” she screams once more, when her brain starts working once more. “WE HAVE TO LEAVE!”

 

He turns to her, blue eyes dancing in delight and he shakes his head.

 

“But whatever for?!”

 

Gaping at him, she gestures toward the impending black funnel and grabs a hold of his arm as the wind starts up violently once more. It’s like turning a giant fan on while on the highest level, and she slides back in her flip flops, in danger of being tossed around like a rag doll. If she listens, over the sirens and the wind and her own heart, she can hear the sounds of wood being ripped from foundations and the twisting of metal.

 

“Because we’re going to die if we don’t, you dumb fucker!”

 

He laughs then, maniacally, and any other time it would have possibly turned her on, especially since he looks so very alive and absolutely in his element. And in that second, she realizes that he is. He’s the god of chaos, of mischief, of lies and all that shit so he’s probably damn near having an orgasm at the disaster that is that giant tornado.

 

“We’ll be perfectly safe, darling, you’ll see!” He grasps her hand in his and pulls her around so that she stands in front of his chest, his arm about her waist. And he bends his head then, so that she can hear him easily, his lips right beside her ear.

 

“I won’t let anything harm you. I promise.”

 

What good was a promise from the god of lies, she thinks, swallowing once more and she itches to move, to at the very least duck underneath the porch. She doesn’t have a clue if that would save her or not, but it’s got to be better than standing in the direct path of a tornado. But the grip he has on her body is tight and there’s a strange part of her that wants to see what happens when the storm reaches them.

 

She’s going to die right here, outside in a storm like a moron, and for reasons she can’t explain, she’s not too bothered by it. At least she’ll go out with a bang. She sucks in a breath and clenches his hand in hers and waits, all the blood rushing to her head as the brunt of the wind finally reaches them, debris flying all about them. But somehow, it all seems to circumvent them, swooping around in a circle onto the other side of the house and of the two of them and she realizes, when the funnel is damn near in her face, that this is his doing.

 

“Don’t close your eyes,” he breathes out, panting in excitement. “Keep them open and watch.”

 

And she does, looking up when the tornado goes over their heads. It never touches them, or her house, or the porch, or the deck though everything outside of this invisible bubble is destroyed. In her peripheral, she can see the empty run down trailer the street over ripped to shreds, and that old fishing camp battered down like nothing. But her home is safe. Her car is safe. And so is she, she realizes, as she stares into the middle of the funnel.

 

It’s absolutely awe inspiring. She knows no matter what she does or how long she lives she’ll never forget this. The arms around her tighten and pull her closer, one hand on her chin to keep her head tilted up lest she lose her nerve and try to run, the other slipping past her waistband and into her underwear.

 

“Don’t think too hard. Just watch,” she hears in her ear, in that impossibly sultry voice, cool air brushing across her earlobe and she shudders, then jerks when his fingers slip down and brush across her heat. He sucks in a breath, something that sounds like a near moan, and bites down on her neck, just hard enough that she winces. “Already so wet for me,” he purrs. “Norns, you are incredible. Just like this storm, darling. Doesn’t it thrill you?”

 

Thrill wasn’t exactly the word she would use, but she couldn’t deny how her whole body felt like a live wire, or that her heart stammered out a beat that she could hear in her ears, even over the wind and the rain and Loki’s harsh breathing. She felt invincible, alive, as if she was just now seeing light after months and months of endless dark.

 

It was _amazing_.

 

He slips two fingers, long and cool, inside her and moves them fast and rough so that she arches from his chest and cries out, her thighs widening on their own accord and she pushes her hips down a bit to ride his hand. It’s like kicking a ticking time bomb; she’s already wound up just from wanting him all day, and he has the nerve to be hard as a rock behind her, bare chested and sweaty and thrumming with energy. And his fingers are moving and stroking her like they were made just for that purpose. She’s barely aware of the sounds that come out her mouth, only of the funnel above her and the glimmer of the sun and of Loki.

 

Always of Loki. Always aware of him.

 

But just as soon as she feels the beginnings of an orgasm approaching, he pulls his hand away and out her shorts and the tornado barrels over them, disappearing back up into the sky and taking its wonder with it. She stumbles away from him, dazed and incredibly frustrated, turns to survey the world around her and then to stare at him in shock.

 

“What in the absolute HELL is fuckin’-”

 

“Wasn’t that incredible?!” He asks, looking all the world like he’d just watched a really good football game instead of a damned tornado. He chuckles and lifts his hands to his mouth, sucks her wetness off of them and walks over to where she’s pacing.

 

“You’re insane, you’re a fuckin’ IDIOT, we could have fuckin’ DIED, you dumb-”

 

He shakes his head and lifts a shaking finger to her lips. She wonders why he’s shaking, for a second, and then she gets annoyed that she’s worried about him when he’d practically held her hostage in the middle of a storm.

 

“But can you feel it now? That energy, that thrill? The beauty of it all. The magnificence! Norns, I wish I could take you to Asgard. Show you the storms we had there, you’d be amazed, you’d-”

 

“I’d die,” she says with a quivering voice. She’s certain she’s as crazy as he is because every word he’d just said had struck her and she agrees. It didn’t hurt that he’d been bringing her to the brink of cumming, either. That most definitely helped to amp up the intensity of the experience.

 

And then she realizes she was still angry about that little stunt, too.

 

“You’d be perfectly safe! I told you I’d never let anything harm you. And did it?”

 

She shakes her head, opens her mouth to retort once more, but he’s got his hand on the back of her neck and he’s pulling her against his chest again, his fingers finding where her pulse thrums under her skin.

 

“ _T_ _his_...this is what I wanted. I wanted you to react. I wanted you to combust and ignite and set yourself on fire, because that’s when you truly feel as though you are living. Do you? Now that you’ve seen the power of your Earth and what she can do? Do you feel alive?” He leans in and sucks at her neck and her knees go weak in spite of how annoyed she is. All she wants right now is his fingers back inside her so he can finish what he’d started.

 

“Tell me, darling,” he insists, as his hand comes around to grip her hip and she breathes out what she thinks is a yes.

 

“You’re still insane,” she says, meeting his gaze, and she’s so proud that she doesn’t falter or buckle under how intense it is. She knows, though, that had those eyes been red and not blue, she’d have been a boneless puddle in his hands. He can get away with a lot when he’s Jotun Loki.

 

“Am I?” He laughs then and she can’t stop from clenching around nothing down below because that laugh, that stupid fucking laugh, does incredible things to her insides.

 

“You’re going to be dead, too,” she says, wrenching free of him and stomping down the hill toward the house, “if you don’t come over here and finish me off.”

 

He stares after her for a long moment, debris falling around him like rain and the orange sky illuminating his pale skin. He looks otherworldly, god like, a halo of dirty light about his head and she’s reminded again that he is, in fact, not human and not of this world and that she should be terrified of him.

 

But she isn’t. She’s just really, really horny and he’s got what she needs.

 

* * *

 

 

Within an instant he’s behind her, practically hauling her up the steps to the porch and into the house. Loki doesn’t bother closing the door, just lets the screen bang, before he’s dragging her little shorts down with her underwear and peels her tank top off and fumbles with the clasps of her bra. His mouth blazes across her neck and her shoulders, his hips pushing up against her pelvis and demanding she spread her legs for him. They’re not even down the hall yet, and already he’s all over her and the thought that he wants her so badly makes her grin.

 

“Are you gonna wait till I can get to a bed?” she asks, between kisses and punctuated with little sharp moans as he sucks on her nipples. He glances up and pulls away, a trail of saliva following his mouth.

 

“Do you really require a bed for me to fuck you?”

 

She shakes her head because she doesn’t and the couch will work, if he’ll even stumble over that way. But he’s got other thoughts because he hauls her down to the floor by the door and shucks off his cutoffs, grips her under her knees, and shimmies down until he’s face to face with her bare ass.

 

“You have absolutely no couth... _fuck-_ ”

 

He licks a long stripe with that long tongue, straight up the center of her and hums appreciatively at how she tastes. He’d confessed to her one night that he got an inordinate amount of pleasure just from eating her out, and so she’d let him do just that on occasion, straddling his face when she got off and cumming at least twice before he needed to catch his breath.

 

“Even sweeter than usual, darling.”

 

“All sweaty and gross?” She wrinkles her nose at that, but leans back anyway with a soft sigh as he noses the curls at her mound, his teeth scraping and bumping her clit lightly.

 

“All the more so when you’re hot like this.” He smacks his lips and pulls back enough so that he can adjust himself on the floor. “You smell absolutely divine, as well.”

 

It’s gotta be pheromones or something talking, cause she can smell herself and it’s kinda grody but if he likes it, she loves it. So she hushes up and lets him explore her with his tongue, slow and lazy at first, until she’s whimpering and grinding up against his mouth. She can feel him grin, while his hands hold her hips steady and his eyes dart up to meet hers.

 

 _Faster?_   They say. And she nods, sliding her fingers through his sweaty hair, tugging on it lightly. He acquiesces, increasing the pressure of his tongue in increments and humming against her flesh so that she closes her eyes and lets out a soft moan of his name. “Loki…” she whispers, and she lets her body drift closer and closer toward something good. The light is golden, the air hushed and heavy, and sweat pools in the hollow of her throat and there’s nothing she wants right now but this.

 

It’s when she’s close, enough that if he only sucked or licked or stroked her a bit faster and harder, she’d fall over that edge, does he pull back. At first, she thinks he’s simply moving up to kiss her, settle between her thighs and sink in deep, but instead, he licks his lips and gets up from the floor with a dramatic grunt, snatches up his cutoffs, and leaves.

 

Mel can’t do anything but lay there for a moment, naked and sweaty on her living room floor, because she’s dumbfounded. But then she gets angry, and she growls, rolling over to get off the floor as her body buzzes and shivers with another almost orgasm.

 

“Motherfucker, if you don’t get your scrawny, pasty ass back here and finish me off!”

 

She doesn’t hear a retort, only the fumbling of someone digging about in her laundry room. “Loki! I know you hear me, goddamn it!”

 

He’s going to die if he doesn’t at least get her off once. He doesn’t even have to fuck her, she just wants to cum and he’s being an absolute asshole about all this. And she doesn’t care that she’s bare as she rounds the corner of the kitchen, slams the laundry room open.

 

“What are you _doing_?!”

 

He raises a brow and waves a line of rope around. “Wanted to try something, darling. Is this all the rope you have?”

 

Mel blinks, shakes her head, and leans up to the cabinet above the dryer to pull out another coil. “Uh, no, here. There’s another thirty or so feet. Look. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

 

He ignores her in favor of unraveling the coil and testing the rope. “This will do just fine, thank you.”

 

“Loki!”

 

“Yes, sweetheart.” He sounds so very unbothered and it just irritates her more.

 

“Did your tongue run out of gas? I mean, _shit_ , if your mouth was tired, you could have used your fingers or something! I was this close...this close, again! And you just-”

 

“For fucks sake, woman, have you never heard of orgasm delay?” He stares at her like she has two heads and isn’t standing naked by the washer, angry and sweaty and ready to pummel him into the floor. “I realize the education system in this area is lacking severely-”

 

“Oh fuck _you_.”

 

“-but you are a shining beacon in this cesspool of a town, and I’d thought you’d at least have some sort of knowledge about sex if not the experience.”

 

She squints her eyes and tries not looking at the bulge in his underwear, or she’ll get distracted.

 

“You say that like it’s my fault.”

 

“It is, in some ways.”

 

“Oh, well fuck _me_ , then.”

 

Because it wasn’t her fault, not at all. Sue her for being a late bloomer, for being absolutely unwanted in a town of 3000. That stung though she didn’t want to admit it did, and she thinks she sees his eyes soften a touch, though his face is still neutral and completely unaffected.

 

“I’m trying to, darling, if you’ll give me a moment.” He sighs and closes the cabinet above their heads so he won’t bump his and then he presses a cool palm to her waist, nudging her out the door. “And that wasn’t negative commentary on your attractiveness. You know how I feel about that.”

 

“Enlighten me,” she mumbles. She’s suddenly self conscious about her legs and her hips or lack thereof, of her not big enough breasts and the stubborn pouch of fat that clings to her belly. If she lost another fifteen pounds, maybe she could say she was marginally attractive. But that won’t fix her face, nor will it make her dainty and cute and beautiful like she wishes she were.

 

“You are-and I’ve told you this, _numerous_ times-incredibly beautiful. Sexy. Ravishing, really.” Mel blushes even though he’s told her this before, because she can’t believe it. He’s had to have seen women so gorgeous, they transcend species, but he’s talking about _her_ like she’s one of those women and it’s unreal.  “If I could persuade you to abandon that sorry excuse of employment and stay home so you could fuck me full time, I’d do it.”

 

The thought of that is more than alluring, really, and she’s tempted to see how much she’s got in her 401k, if only because she’s so tired of the people at that office and their silly little politics and cliques. But she also knows she’s got bills to pay and his stipend doesn’t cover near enough so she dismisses the very lovely thought as soon as it passes through her mind.

 

“And so there is no lack of attraction preventing you from literally having every male creature within a 100 kilometer radius of yourself. The only real thing holding you back is ignorance. And you.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes,” he says, leading her into the living room once more. “You completely come across as someone who doesn’t want to be bothered. You radiate a very complicated aura.”

 

Mel has absolutely no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but she decides to let him keep talking in case he’ll tell her.

 

“And what I mean by that, is you aren’t simple minded nor easy to persuade to do anything. Anyone who has ever met you can pick up on that within seconds of meeting you. I most definitely did.”

 

“And yet, you’ve been blowing my back out for the last two months.”

 

He grins at that and swings some of the rope up to the empty hook that once held the old lighting fixture. She’s been meaning to take that out, since they’ve got the new lamps, but never thinks about it when the ladder is out of the shed and is too lazy to do it when it’s put away. And for whatever reason, it’s come in handy for whatever Loki has in mind to do.

 

“The more time I spent with you, the more I realized that your aura-standoffish just enough so that no one wants more from you than casual acquaintance-is simply a shield. You’re afraid.”

 

She snorts, though he’s getting awfully deep right now, and she’s too naked for this shit. “Yeah, uh huh. Okay.”

 

“You are. You are terrified of human relationships. And truthfully, I cannot blame you. You are fickle, fragile, selfish creatures. You have been hurt, you have been told most of your life that you were unwanted and not needed and that no man or woman would ever find you desirable, but only because they were afraid of your potential.”

 

Huh. “So you’re sayin’ that I can’t get laid because guys are scared of how amazing I could be?” That sounds like a crock of shit, and he seems to recognize that it does because his shoulders shrug.

 

“It sounds trite when you say it that way,” he quips, but he nods. “And yet, that’s exactly what I’m saying. People-humans yes, but others as well-dismiss greatness for fear of being outshone. Sad, isn’t it?”

 

For a moment, neither of them say a word. She mulls over his thoughts on the matter and he watches her face to see if she’s thinking about it and then he smiles. “If I have to spend the remainder of my sentence making love to you every minute of every day so that you realize how stunning  you are, then I will. I suppose it’s the least I can do.”

 

“I didn’t take you for someone so altruistic,” she quips, wanting to cry a bit at how absolutely sweet and gentle he’s being, when her insecurities are trying their best to smother her. But she blinks fast and holds the sensation at bay. He doesn’t need to see her tear up over that, or it’ll go straight to his head.

 

“I surprise myself at times,” he responds. Satisfied that the rope holds he extends his hand to her and she takes it, suddenly curious to see what he wants to do. “Hold still and raise your arms, sweetheart. Oh, and do tell me if this is too tight.”

 

* * *

 

It takes him a few minutes to get his knots right but with only minimal fumbling, Loki finishes, steps back to appraise his work, and then takes off down the hall to Mel’s room to grab lube and a vibrator.

 

He’s got her tied up and hung from the roof like a rack of lamb, but it’s fun in a way and she tip toes around a bit so she swings back and forth. The rope is soft and doesn’t hurt her skin any, the knots slack enough so that she has plenty of room for circulation but snug enough that she feels secure. At the moment, she’s mostly at his mercy unless she gives him a safe word.

 

They’d settled for ‘tomato’.

 

She hears his voice from the back of the house though she can’t quite make out what he’s yelling about.

 

“Huh?”

 

There’s a bit of shuffling and a door swings open and then:

 

“I said, where did you say you’d left your toy, darling?”

 

“Oh! Uh, should be in the top drawer of my night stand. I think.” She tries to remember the last time she’d used that vibrator and realizes it was probably the night before she and Loki slept together that first time. It’s been a while. Batteries were probably dead by now. Somehow, thinking of batteries reminded her that it wasn’t in the nightstand, but in the closet...where she’d been searching for new batteries.

 

“Ay! Loki!”

 

“Yes, sweetheart?”

 

“Look in my closet. Top shelf. And grab some batteries, too. The double A’s.”

 

Moments later she hears his heavy footsteps down the hall and he’s got her blue vibe, a handful of batteries, and the lube tucked under his arm. It’s too hot in the living room with the power still out and the sky’s still an odd shade of yellow. She worries, for a moment, that the tornado will come back or another will pop up in its place, but her worries are shifted to the very back of her mind when a cool, calloused hand slides along the skin of her lower back.

 

“Are you comfortable? Are your arms in any discomfort?

 

She nods. “Yeah. I’m fine. Arms are good. What do you plan to do with me?”

 

A pair of lips come around to nip at her neck and she giggles at the sensation. “If I tell you everything, it’ll spoil the fun. But I did want to ask if you’re sure about this.”

 

“Depends on what ‘this’ is supposed to be,” she says, and he nods.

 

“Fair point. Well, in the broadest terms I can think of that won’t spoil the surprise, how do you feel about having something in your arse while I’m fucking you?”

 

Mel swallows. The idea of double penetration got her off in ways she’d never admitted to anyone except Loki, and he’d never thought to bring it into the bedroom with them during their trysts. Mel wondered if perhaps he was more like her previous lovers than she thought; they were solely focused on only one end of her and really wasn’t interested in the rest.

 

“I’ve got three holes for a reason,” she finally responds and the look on his face was priceless. Arousal and shock meld into absolute delight and he tugs her face around to kiss her, open mouthed and slow, the way he always did right before he started on her. If it was meant to get her all worked up and pliable, it definitely did the trick. There was nothing at all like slow tongue kissing, especially to someone who was so damned good at it.

 

He pulls away, finally, when she needs to draw a breath though he keeps his lips close to hers and his hands on her body. They start from her hips and slide up and down her sides, his blunt nails scratching just enough to prickle and stimulate. He never hurts her, not like this, and she feels oddly safe in his care. It’s why she let him tie her up to begin with. He knew she had boundaries and so far had kept all his promises to never cross them.

 

“I only required two for this little exploration...though I can always adjust that, if you’d like.”

 

“Maybe later, if I like what you’ve got in mind for the first two.”

 

“Good. Now. Close your eyes, take in a deep breath, and relax.”

 

She wants to retort that relaxing when she’s horny as hell and tied to a hook in her ceiling sounds impossible, but she swallows the retort and decides to be a good girl for once. No one could accuse Mel of being quiet when it came to what she wanted, but occasionally, words were more trouble than they were worth. And right now was one of those times.

 

Closing her eyes, she inhales deeply, ignores the trickle of sweat that drips down from her armpit and curves under her breast, and tries to focus on nothing but what Loki’s hands are doing. They’re spread out over her ribcage, until he lifts them so that only his fingertips graze her skin, and then they map out over the expanse of her torso and around to her chest, back around to her back. It’s slow going; he doesn’t rush at all, even when her breathing stutters and she shudders from how delicate his touch is.

 

She’s so tempted to open her eyes just to see what he looks like while he’s doing this. She doesn’t even know why he’s doing it; his touch is incredible, yes, but he’s spent most of their time together inside her instead of exploring the outside of her. It’s definitely different, but she can’t say she doesn’t like it. In fact, she just might love it. And that’s a bit worrying.

 

“You’re thinking too much, sweetheart,” he says softly, his voice low and deep, and she almost moans just from that. “Let me to take your mind away from your pondering, if you’ll allow it.”

 

“Yes.”

 

The softness of a silk blindfold settles around her eyes and now all her attention is focused on touch and feel. Loki ducks his head down and blows his breath along her heated, sweltering skin, chilling her just enough to cause goose flesh and make her suck in air. His lips seem to hover of her body, long moments of him simply touching her and teasing kisses to drive all distractions from her head. And then he sucks her nipple into his mouth and she can’t think of anything else at all, not when his tongue is circling the peak and his teeth scrape the sensitive nerves there.

 

One hand comes around to hold her body close to his mouth, the other wanders down to her ass, gripping and grasping greedily. Loki lowers himself (and his mouth) bit by aching bit until he’s at her navel, where he darts out his tongue to circle around the skin there slowly. He moves back up to her chest, biting and nibbling at the flesh along the underside of each breast. It’s almost torture at this point. She wants nothing more than for him to take her, however he wants, but he seems happy to just touch and explore.

 

“Loki…” she whines, trying hard not to wiggle and move about lest he just walk away and leave her (literally) hanging.

 

“Yes, Mel.” His hands don’t stop moving along her skin, up her legs and close to her core where she wants him, but just far away enough to tease.

 

She knows what she has to say in order to get her way, though it grates a bit on her nerves. She wasn’t really into submission she’d found out, but didn’t mind dipping her toes into the pool every so often. So begging him, with that sickeningly sweet baby voice that she’d seen in porn, made her irritable at the least and absolutely murderous at the most. Loki had compromised by simply asking her to address him 'properly'. And even that was somewhat annoying, but she could stand it if he’d just go ahead and fuck her already.

 

“My prince,” she breathes out, shifting a little on her tip toes and shuddering when he leans in to bite the shell of her ear. “You know how much I love it when you touch me.”

 

“I do, sweet girl. Which is why I’m touching you.”

 

“Yes. Yes…but…you have to understand somethin’.”

 

“What would that be?” he purrs, and she can feel his eyes on her skin even if she can’t see them. His gaze is penetrating either way, blue or red, and it’s a ghost of a physical touch to have him staring at her this way.

 

“I’m really, really, really horny,” she pants, because she is, and there’s no shame in admitting that. “And you’ve got a really, really, really nice dick, and I really want it inside me-“

 

Fingers long and slim slip between her thighs and stroke her roughly, searching it seems for something inside her when they push up and press against her spot. She can’t even stop the groan that tumbles from her mouth when he does that, nor can she stop her cunt from soaking his hand once more. But no sooner does he do that, does he pull those fingers away and she wants to cry she’s so damned frustrated.

 

“You are so ready for me, darling.” There’s nothing but want and desire in his voice, heavy and thick with lust and something else she isn’t sure she could name. It’s almost as if he’s as desperate as she is, as if he’s been holding on to something for a long time and this is his way of getting her to understand where he’s coming from. But she doesn’t have time to think on that, nor does she have the brain cells to. He’s lifting her thigh and wrapping it around his slim hips and then the other, until her feet no longer touch the ground.

 

“Give me your consent, sweetheart.”

 

“Yes,” she almost screams out, because this has been building up all day and if he isn’t inside her now, she’s going to riot.

 

But then he is inside her, pushing in smooth and hard and deep and there’s another yes from her, this one high strung and almost a scream, punctuated by his own hard grunt of pleasure.

 

" _Norns_ , you feel so good,” he stammers out, his hands wrapping about her thighs as he steadies her. And then he starts to move, not bothering to hold back because he knows how badly she needs this.

 

Her empty hands grasp at air, then each other as they strain and struggle above her. In an ideal world, she’d be looking into his eyes and grasping his shoulders as she moves with him, but right now, she’s at his mercy. So eventually, as the pleasure inside her starts to wind up tight and hot and fast, she settles for simply leaning back and enjoying the ride. She doesn’t need much else either, besides his cock in her and his hands on her and his mouth at her neck.

 

She wonders, in the haze of her mind, what they look like right now. What sort of erotic, perverted picture do they make? It’s enough to almost tip her over the edge, to imagine just how gorgeous he is, sweaty and naked and thrusting inside her, his body a well honed tool, his focus on bringing her to bliss. And before she can really dwell on that, she feels the beginnings of her orgasm start to take over. A little part of her panics, certain he’ll pull out right now like he’d done before, but he doesn’t.

 

Instead, when she moans his name, needy and near terrified at how good this feels, he grips her close and presses her chest to his so she can feel his heart pounding in his ribs along with her own. They beat together, almost, his just a little faster and heavier, and his mouth is on her own as he wraps his arms around her body and angles his hips up just the right way.

 

“Cum for me, my sweet girl…cum _hard_ for me. Come on, you’ve been so good, so very good-“

 

She bows her head and behind the blindfold she can feel her eyes cross as she falls, plummets from the tip top of a peak that nearly knocks her breathless. Cries of pleasure tangle in her throat, and come out without any rhyme or reason, garbled nonsense that culminates in a sob and he works her all the way through it, never stopping his punishing, hard thrusts.

 

She doesn’t have time to even catch her breath before he withdraws, leaving her whimpering from the loss. He reaches up and tugs off the blindfold and presses his forehead to hers, his eyes shining and his mouth in a pleased grin.

 

“Did that satisfy you?”

 

“Loki, please I want-“

 

“I’d thought so.” He turns her around then, wraps a long arm about her waist and presses his hips up until his cock pushes against her ass. She thinks for a moment that he'll try putting that in her ass, but he conjures up the lube from somewhere and slicks two fingers instead, pushing one gently at her entrance until it gives way. He takes his time in stretching her open this way and she sucks him in greedily, groaning as she accepts yet another finger along with the first. All the while his cock slips between the lips of where she’s dripping and clenching. For lack of fulfillment elsewhere, she bares down on the fingers inside her and gasps as a frisson of pleasure passes through her. And then his cock is pushing forward inside her pussy once more, and he stills for just a second as he lets out a shaking breath against her shoulder.

 

“I could spend the rest of my life doing this,” he starts, his thrusts slower and deeper this time, his free hand trembling against her belly. “All of it, every year I have left.”

 

“Fucking me?” she gasps out, her head falling back as his cock pushes against her spot with every push and pull, his fingers alternating with the thrusts of his hips. It’s mind boggling how fast he can drive her to the brink and keep her there for long minutes, until she’s near out her mind with need. She wouldn’t have it any other way. She wonders how she’d ever gotten by before him, how she’d ever been satisfied with just her fingers and her vibrator and the sorry excuse of a fuck buddy she’d had before.

 

Loki had practically ruined her. He knew it too, and he relished in it.

 

“ _Gods yes_. Fucking you, pleasuring you, making you cum so hard you lose focus and…unf, _fuck_. Fuck yes, sweet girl, move with me.”

 

She stands as best she can on her tip toes and pushes back against him, taking him deeper, and she closes her eyes when his teeth graze her neck. There’s a soft buzzing in the distance, and his hips slow, just a bit, before the shock of her vibrator falls against her clit. It’s a jolt to her system and her hands flail, reaching and grasping blindly for something, _anything_ to grasp a hold of but she comes up empty. A sob wrenches free from her throat and she jerks forward, right into the vibe and grinds into it, as Loki pushes in deep once more and twists his fingers in her ass. It takes only a few snaps of his hips and the light circling of the vibe to get her close once more, and she could feel all the blood in her body rush below, leaving her light headed.

 

“Loki!”

 

“I know, sweetheart, let it go.” He punctuates his soft command with a bite at her neck, teeth baring down just hard enough that she spirals and cums.

 

Distantly, she could feel him cumming as well, deep inside her and his seed is cool and thick, coating her and dripping down her thigh like cold cream as he slowly pulls out. He drops the vibe to the floor and leans against her shivering body for a long moment.

 

“Fuck.”

 

“I agree,” he pants, kissing her neck and shoulders, and he reaches up to untie her from the ceiling. There’s no circulation in her arms now, and her hands flop uselessly at her side, her legs nearly giving way when the rope unravels and falls. But he catches her, lifting her easily into his arms and carries her from the living room to her bedroom.

 

* * *

 

It’s too hot to sleep, even though she digs around in her closet and finds an old battery powered fan that will cool them some. She opens the window as high as it’ll go and checks to see if the fan works. Surprised that it does, she sits it on the night stand right beside Loki, the color of his pale skin alarming her in it’s ruddiness.

 

“You okay?” she asks, sitting naked at the end of her bed. There’s Popsicles in the freezer and a half bag of ice, and if all else fails, she’ll drag him to the tub and douse him with both to keep him from overheating. But after a minute or so on the bed with the fan directly on him, he starts looking a bit more like himself.

 

“I am now, darling. Come. Talk with me.”

 

It’s weird, really, how they can go from fucking each other’s brains out to simply sitting and chatting like old friends. He loves to talk and she loves to listen, simply because everything he tells her sounds like a story or adventure. So she sidles up to him on the opposite side of the nightstand and tries to keep her hot skin from his so he doesn’t get too warm. Loki raises a brow and pulls her tight to him, spooning her in with his large, long body covering nearly every inch of her backside.

 

“Do you not wish to cool off?”

 

Mel snorts, but she doesn’t budge. Within moments she’s cool as a cucumber and feeling a lot better. “I didn’t think you had the energy for all of that.”

 

“I’m perfectly fine, actually,” he says haughtily, and with a slide of his hands along her side, he pushes his hips into her bottom, earning an unexpected gasp and then a groan.

 

“Are you serious? I just came so hard I almost blacked out and you’re already hard again?”

 

“I have quite the refractory period.”

 

“Uh huh. You’re a fuckin’ horndog.”

 

He laughs at that, but he doesn’t push her any further in his amorous endeavors. Instead, he settles for stroking her skin and pressing soft, cool kisses to her shoulders. It soothes her enough that she thinks she could fall asleep. But then she gets to thinking about the tornado and the damage done and she’s suddenly very worried that her parents’ place has been torn to shreds or that her grandmother’s old house is gone now. Thank goodness her folks are somewhere in that RV on the other side of the country. She wonders if she has enough cell service to text her brother.

 

Wiggling free of Loki’s grasp, though he protests and tries to hold her fast, she gets up from the bed and throws on clean panties, a tank top, and her overalls dress, foregoing a bra because it’s honestly too hot and she really doesn’t have the time to search for a clean one. 

 

“Where are you going?” He sounds a little distraught, actually, lain out on her bed naked as a jaybird and looking awfully delicious. She mentally slaps herself and wills her libido down.

 

“I’m gonna see if I can get out and check on Mama and Daddy’s place.”

 

“Ah. I see.” He grunts a bit as he lifts his body from her bed, and with heavy footsteps she’s come to anticipate and even look forward to, he pushes past her as she looks around for her rain boots, his hand trailing along her bottom before smacking it heartily. “Tsk. Not a sign of your underthings, either. Are you certain you’re not off for another dalliance?”

 

Mel pauses long enough to glare at him, not liking the slight jealousy in his tone.  "I'm wearin' a thong, asshat." He has no reason to feel like this. He’s just her roommate, her friend, her fuck buddy.

 

She thinks that's all he is. They hadn’t talked about anything past that, and she wasn’t going to bring it up. Loathe be it her to look like boo boo the fool if he didn’t want any more than to fuck her when he wanted.

 

But what if he did want more? Her traitorous, romantic, sappy ass heart made her suck in a breath and her face softens just long enough that his tone changed.

 

“Was simply a jest, darling,” he says, oddly sincere.

 

“I know. You know good and damned well nobody wants this but you.” _And you’ll get tired of it too_ , is the unspoken bitter promise in her head that she tries to pass off as humor. But he doesn’t give her a break with her self loathing, his face scrunched handsomely into a frown and then suddenly, he’s towering over her like he isn’t naked and vulnerable before her.

 

Maybe he isn’t. Not really. If he can stop a tornado from touching a hair on her head, then maybe-

 

And that reminds her.

 

“Look, I’ve gotta go.”

 

“You’re not getting out of this.”

 

“Out of what?” She shakes her head and huffs, digging one polka dotted boot from under the mounds of shoes she’s got in her closet and finds the other on the opposite wall, tucked between a Rubbermaid box of yarn and a plastic bag of fabric. That reminds her she needs to haul that fabric down to her mother’s anyway; it’s been weeks since she’d bought all this at Hobby Lobby and she’s tired of looking at it. What did Mama need with new curtains anyway? She was never home.

 

“Out of this conver- _shit_ , what in Odin’s name is-“

 

He cuts off when he steps on a hairbrush and bends over to chuck it into the opposite corner. “The conversation, I meant. That we’re currently having.” He clears his throat and tries to look stern and imposing but it fails because he’s blushed and his hair is a mess and he’s still nude.

 

“Dude, you’re naked. Go throw something on and we can talk in the car.” When he doesn’t respond, she shoots him a look and tilts her head to the side expectantly. “You _are_ coming along, right?” He nods with a sigh. She wiggles her boots on and pushes her curls out of her face, heads into the bathroom with him on her heels to find a hair tie and forgets once again that her lights are out. She can’t really see in the dark.

 

“You got a ponytail holder?”

 

He flicks his wrist and a flash of golden light illuminates the dark bathroom. She's thankful once again that Uncle Nick had granted him more access to his powers. Little stuff like this comes in handy. It’s bright enough that she can make out the mess that is her sink, and perched next to the toilet tissue is a black hair tie. Satisfied that it’ll hold her mess of a hair out the way, she thanks him quietly and offers him one as well. He turns then and heads for his room, but not before wiggling his hips a little to humor her once more. It works, the way it almost always does and she’s giggling like a silly little girl in the hallway.

 

“Seriously! Put on some clothes, Loki. I ain’t takin’ you nowhere naked.”

* * *

 

Her road is mostly clear, give or take a few limbs that have fallen in the way. Loki gets out to clear those, and though it takes them twenty minutes, they’re out of the woods and on to the main highway toward town. It’s almost as if the Apocalypse has hit their sleepy little town. No one is on the road but one other car and power lines are down here and yonder. Mel takes her time driving, careful not to speed lest they come across debris that could damage the Focus.

 

She turns on the radio and tries tuning in to the local station, but she gets nothing but static. It puts an eerie feeling in her stomach, and she’s quiet as a church mouse most of the fifteen miles into town.

 

“Darling, I’m sure everything is fine,” Loki says, only to placate her. Any other time and she would have glared in his direction, but she doesn’t have the energy to do so now. Her nerves are getting worse the longer she drives and the worse the damage becomes. It isn’t so much that’s she’s afraid anyone was really hurt; it’s just so strange to see the outside world like something out of a nightmare. It’s unsettling and she hates that feeling. And she thinks of her sister, twenty miles to the west and hopes to god she avoided all the ruckus.

 

When she doesn’t respond, she feels a cool hand on her free one, curling around her fingers and stroking her knuckles lightly. It’s intimate in a way she isn’t used to. No one has ever considered her enough to want to simply hold her hand or soothe her nerves. And for a moment, she thinks she might cry, but she blinks fast and opens her palm, allowing his fingers to entwine with her own. If he wants to comfort her, she’ll allow it. No use in being a bitch about a little skin to skin contact.

 

Her parents’ place is a mile outside the city limits. She pulls into the road of their neighborhood and almost cries in relief to see nothing but minimal damage-a few limbs lay across the neighbor’s roof, and branches are scattered about their yard, but nothing major. She parks outside the gate and hops the fence, jogs around to check if the gazebo is still standing and sighs when she notices it is. Doesn’t look like her mom’s place got much else but rain and some wind, and that’s more than a relief.

 

“Are you satisfied with your surveillance?” Loki asks, genuinely curious, and she nods though she’s still got to get make sure the property has been undisturbed by other people as well.

 

“Mostly. Mama will be relieved to know her garden will only need a little work. And there’s the whole ‘not having to rebuild the house she’s owned for thirty years’ thing too. That’ll be good to know.” Figuring it won’t hurt to clean up while she’s there, she grabs some of the branches from the yard and starts collecting them into a pile, trying not to react when Loki sighs dramatically and begins to help.

 

“You pick the most inopportune moments to decide to do yard work,” he grumbles, but he doesn’t stop from hauling the heaviest bits of downed trees to the trash pile.

 

“No one asked you to lift a finger, your Highness,” she quips, a smile creeping about her lips. “I had this all by my-ouch!”

 

Her hand slips while she’s talking and she gets a splinter in her middle finger. It’s just big enough to make her wince, but too tiny for her to ply out by herself, and she groans at the idea of having to drive back home twenty minutes with a throbbing, aching finger. Maybe Mama had left some tweezers in the house, but she didn’t want to spend time digging around that giant bathroom for some either. She presses her thumb nail to the flesh of her finger and tries scraping it out, but it’s no use. The splinter is stuck and she’ll have to deal with it later.

 

Before she can toss the limb onto the pile and stomp back to her car, Loki’s hovering next her and wordlessly, he grasps her hand. His own hands are moderately warm, no doubt for her benefit, and his eyes search her skin for the splinter, finding it within the second. And then, before she can even protest, he lifts her dirtied hand to his mouth and laves his rough, wet tongue over the finger, before sucking hard on the digit and tugging the splinter from her flesh with his teeth.

 

It’s over before she knows it, but it’s like she’s watching it in slow motion. For whatever reason, that turns her on immensely, and she’s tempted to drag him into her parents’ home and fuck him on their kitchen floor. But when she hears sirens in the distance, her attention shifts from Loki’s mouth where her finger still lingers to the flashing lights of a firetruck rushing down the highway.

 

“Looks like there’s trouble,” he comments, his voice quiet and his eyes searching the sky for anymore signs of another storm coming.

 

“Probably an electric fire. Power lines are down all over.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Mel pulls away from him and shuffles the keys in her pocket around until she finds the one for the storage building. Daddy’s got a generator inside, though she’s certain there’s probably no gas for it. But maybe there’s a gas station in Hemphill open; she isn’t sure, but she doesn’t think the tornado got that far before it petered out.

 

Dragging the generator down the steps leaves her panting and sweating. It’s heavy and grimey and old, but it’ll work for her little house, and then maybe she won’t have to suffer under a small battery operated fan in her stifling, humid bedroom. She won’t think of how she’ll no longer have an excuse to crawl underneath Loki now. She won’t even think of the splinter he’d sucked from her finger and spat to the ground, his blue green eyes regarding her with an odd mix of irritation and affection. She just won’t think, is what she’ll do, because thinking leads to feeling and feeling is dangerous, especially around him.

 

“We need gas to make this work and Daddy doesn’t have any.”

 

Loki leans against the Focus the way she’d told him over and over not too but no sooner did he see her struggling with the generator (or glaring at him to get the hell off her car...she wasn’t really sure which) he’s loping over to snatch it from her grasp and toss it into the back of her trunk like it didn’t weigh 100 pounds.

 

“Probably could have come over and helped me get it out, actually-”

 

“You didn’t ask.” He’s not smirking, so something’s eating away at him, but she’s not going to guess what. She’s not going to ask, either. If he wants her to know, she’ll find out.

 

“I shouldn’t have to.”

 

“There are a myriad of things you probably shouldn’t have to do,” he says with an exasperated sigh, “and yet you do them anyway.” She glances back to him again and this time notices how flushed he is and it dawns on her that he’s probably overexerted himself again, helping her clean up her mom’s yard when it’s 98 degrees out and sweltering. She cranks the car as he closes the trunk and shoots him a glance, watching as he dips inside.

 

She pretends she doesn’t hear his weak whimper of relief at the blast of cold air.

 

* * *

 

The ride to Hemphill is easy peasy in comparison to the one into town. There’s absolutely no indication that any storms have happened on this side of the water, just a slow stream of vehicles once she crosses the bridge, coming from the small hotel right beside the Reservoir. She picks the first gas station she finds and fills the portable gas tank she keeps in her trunk, grabs a handful of snacks and extra ice, and fills her own car, wincing a bit at the cost of all of this. Nearly 50 bucks gone that easy, and she only had another 60 to last her till payday. Midnight bowling might have to wait till another day.

 

Loki’s suspiciously quiet, at least until she realizes he’s on his phone. It’s not something she’ll ever really get used to seeing, simply because he hates using the thing unless absolutely necessary. Whoever is on the line has his attention and there’s a soft smile on his face. He only ever talks to the same three or four people; Thor, whenever the older god insists his brother call to update him on his life in Louisiana; Uncle Nick if he’s pushing the boundaries of his house arrest too much; and that Parker kid, who may be one of the few people who can wrangle a laugh from him that isn’t tinged with sarcasm or tainted with insincerity.

 

She likes to imagine sometimes that she’s one of the others, but she knows that the fourth person, the only other person he ever calls, is probably it and she’s probably who’s actually on the phone.

 

Mel peeks her head over to glance at the phone and stare at the video chat and she wonders for a dumb moment how he has service when she doesn’t but then she remembers she’s in Texas, so her phone, too, should be working. That’ll have to wait; she wants to be nosy.

 

“And so Quill’s guy is shooting at these assholes, blasting away best he can but then Groot runs up and snatches the kills-four head...fucking four of them!-right underneath him, and turns around like it was nothing.”

 

“The child spends all his time playing those damned things, of course he’s better at this than Quill is.”

 

“I mean, yeah, but you should have seen it! One kill, okay, sure. Two...mmmyeah, badass. But four? I’ve never seen-oh! Hello, uh..”

 

Mel keeps her face as neutral as she possibly can, though she has a feeling it’s probably not working and that every little nasty emotion is coming through across her face. It’s made worse because the woman can’t remember her damned name for anything, but then again, why would she? The two of them had interacted only twice on FaceTime and never in person and she wasn’t what anyone would consider particularly important or worth remembering. It still stung, though, as did Loki’s goofy half grin when he turned to find her sitting in the driver’s seat, a bag of chips and candy in her hand.

 

She wanted to smack him with that bag. And then perhaps, smack herself. Valkyrie didn’t eat candy and chips, probably. Not with a body like that she didn’t. And she didn’t get splinters or do mundane shit like go for gas runs across state lines after tornadoes. Instead, she was somewhere on the other side of the world playing video games with Starlord and Groot while Mel sat in lousy Louisiana and babysat a war criminal.

 

It didn’t matter that she really didn’t want to be doing anything else. It only mattered that her story didn’t sound as cool. And that’s what mattered to Loki.

 

_Why the fuck did she care what mattered to Loki, anyway?_

 

“I’m so sorry, I keep forgetting your name, Mel.” Valkyrie- _Brunnhilde_ , Mel thinks a little sourly...what an absolutely regal and unforgettable name-had the audacity to look sheepish. “I’m terrible with them, always have been. Ask Loki. I’ve been calling that idiot Lackey for a while now and most of that is because I can’t quite remember what his damn name is.”

 

Loki laughs at that, a pure trilling laugh deep in his chest and Mel doesn’t even crack a smile. She just stares at him and blinks as her fingers dig around in the plastic bag and finds a Slim Jim. He never laughs like that with her. She doesn’t think he does.

 

Of course he doesn’t.

 

“A load of rubbish, dear Valkyrie, and you know it. You call me Lackey because it pisses me off.”

 

“Mmmm but does it? Cause I think you kinda like it.” She winks at him then and grins and Mel is annoyed by how fucking pretty she is and how easy it is for her to get men and women and sentient tree creatures to eat from the palm her small strong hand. She wishes she wasn’t so tired; she’d probably have the energy to hate her at least. Instead, she’s just sickeningly jealous and really fucking depressed about it.

 

“I’m simply used to it, is all.” And then almost as if he is just remembering that she exists, he turns to Mel and offers her a sweet smile, though it falters something heavy when he sees the expression her face. It sucks not being able to hide anything she’s feeling, but at least it saves her the trouble of pretending she’s alright when she’s not.

 

“Brun, may I call you back later?”

 

“I charge for calls.” Brunnhilde’s eyes dart across the screen as if she’s trying to find Mel now, perhaps cognizant of the change in atmosphere, but Loki won’t move the phone and for that reason alone she doesn’t make him get out her car and walk home like she wants. “But uh, yeah. Call me back whenever you want. See you later, Lackey. Take care.”

 

The chat ends and then it’s unbearably quiet in her car. For a while there’s nothing but the soft rustle of the feather flag signs advertising meat pies and boudin flapping in the slight breeze and the distant blaring of country music from the convenience store. If she focuses, hard, she thinks she can hear the water of the lake, the engine of a jacked up truck, the zipping motor of a fishing boat. Anything is better than silence, especially one so thick with tension and awkwardness. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault but hers, though, so eventually she sighs and closes her car door, cranks the engine, and tries the radio again for lack of better options.

 

“Would you like to know how I did that?” Loki says, when she’s close the bridge once more and the lack of conversation starts to really wear at him. “How I stopped the storm, how I kept it from touching us?”

 

She doesn’t say a word and he takes her silence for a yes so he launches forth into some complicated explanation of how his magic works. Part of her wants to not listen because the less she knows about how he functions, the less she’ll care. But the other part of her just wants to hear him talking, along with the part that’s been curious about that all day.

 

“It’s simply a matter of transferring the seidr outside myself and on to the environment around me. The storm was the perfect setup, really. Already so much energy built up inside the funnel, so all it took was for me to-”

 

“Why?”

 

He stops, draws in a breath, and blinks. “Pardon?”

 

She lets out a slow breath, her head bobbing along softly as the car speeds across the bridge and back to Louisiana. There’s no lights on that end of the Reservoir, still, and she is, once again, glad she’s got the generator.

 

“Why’d you do that? It wasn’t necessary.”

 

He frowns, almost as if he can’t understand why she’s confused at his actions, and maybe he can’t. “I saved your home- _our_ home, currently-and you’re questioning my reasons for doing so?”

 

“I’m wondering why you wanted me outside to watch that little display of power. That’s really what I’m wondering.”

 

“Ah...my motivations, then. Were you not listening when I explained? Besides it being a life saving and property conserving maneuver, it was...well, for lack of a better word, awesome. You can’t look at me and tell you didn’t find it invigorating.” He sits back in his seat and sniffs, then sorts through the plastic bag as she crosses the state lines and pulls out barbeque chips. “They didn’t have the sweet heat flavor?”

 

For whatever reason, just that little comment sets her off and she slams on her brakes, skidding over to the side of the road and pulling into the visitor center so she doesn’t wreck her car and cause even more of a mess. They’re barely ten minutes from the house, and all she wants is to crawl into her bed and turn on the power and go to sleep because she’s done with this day and the heat and Loki’s incorrigiable and absolutely annoying, amazing, exasperating, beautiful ass.

 

She hates him. She hates him so much she thinks she’s in love.

 

“Mel. I’m going to need you to calm down.”

 

He sounds absolutely terrified, and it’s funny for some reason, so she sits back in the idling car and laughs, hard and loud, not sexy or sultry or confident like Brunnhilde, not cute and funny and sweet like she wanted to be, not like a real girl, like a real woman. She’s barely a real _person_. She’s a bumbling idiot in a too hot, oddly shaped meat suit and she wants to fling herself into the lake and disappear from the narrative.

 

Okay, so maybe not that. That’s a bit dramatic.

 

It’s only when he reaches over and grabs her face, hard enough to make her take notice, does she feel the tears on her cheeks and now she’s burning with humiliation and all she wants to do is hide. Run away and hide, sink into the floor, cease to exist. God, she hates this. Hates it, hates it, hates it.

 

She’s got a crush. She’s too damned old for a fucking crush.

 

“You’re scaring me, darling.” His voice is serious and quiet and she wants to laugh again, just to get a reaction from him but that’s childish so instead she swallows her laughter and sucks up her tears and tries instead for stocism. It is, of course, not working.

 

“Heat’s getting to me,” she says, her voice trembling a lot more than she wants it to.

 

“I have a feeling you’re not quite telling me the truth.”

 

“I’m surprised. Wasn’t aware you even had feelings.” _Not for me, anyway._

 

He glares her down until she sobers up and thinks of another approach. He’s never looked at her like that, not even when she told him his hair was greasy and fucking up her pillowcases.

 

“You’ve spent nearly a year in my company and haven’t quite figured out that I’m a creature of feeling?” He looks absolutely done with her bullshit and frankly, so is she. “Perhaps you’ve been blinded by your own feelings to truly see mine.”

 

“Huh. Okay. Sorry.” Whatever he says. So long as he doesn’t look too deep and see too much, but he’s such a perceptive son of a bitch. He probably already knows.

 

She attempts to wrench free of him but he holds steady. He keeps her face turned to him even if her eyes dart down and stare at anything other than him. And for a long moment, they sit like this, Al Green in the background and the A/C chilling her forearms.

 

“You’ve no reason to be jealous, sweetheart,” he finally says, in a voice so soft and tender that it’d fall apart if she were to attempt to pick at it. And she hates that she doesn’t want to examine his reasons, that even if he’s being a cunning, deceptive little shit, she wouldn’t care. Maybe it’s the lack of attention. Maybe she’s just really tired of all the sex with no expectations of anything else.

 

Or maybe this is more than a crush and he knows it is because he feels the same way, too.

 

She won’t argue with him on the jealousy issue. She knows she’ll get nowhere with that so she keeps mum, only daring to look up when she’s tired of staring at the seat belt.

 

“I don’t, huh?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

“Then act like I don’t.”

 

She doesn’t know where that came from, but it stirs something inside him because before she can turn back around and pull out into the road, he’s kissing her, deeply, like he means it. He pulls away and unbuckles her seat belt, then pulls her into his lap and slides one of his hands along her throat, sweetly, slowly, until he finds her pulse and he holds his thumb there and leans in until she can see nothing but his eyes. She wants to drown in them, go under and never return. He kisses her again, before she slips beneath the waves.

 

_"Make you do right, love'll make you do wrong…"_

 

It’s a good while before they ever make it home and by that time, she forgets all about being jealous.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr! lilithenaltum.tumblr.com


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